"𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐓, 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒!"
The announcer shouts, the sound of his voice in the mic echos itself all throughout the stadium. It's not only the announcer shouting. Everyone around me is. It's purely deafening, the noises in my ear die out, muffling together into one pure blob of loudness. I didn't even realize I was shouting, too.
Akira turns to face me with a large smile on his mouth. Tears are running down both of our faces, but mine are for separate reasons. His eyes seem to only be trailing towards my own but everyone else's is on his. Rightfully so, he earned that goal. He was the lead, with all lights shining down onto him. From the deepest depths of my joy and happiness for his success some form of jealously was writhing around within me. Quickly snuffing out the feeling, after talking to a couple friends who popped by congratulate him, he heads over to me and we begin to walk over to this nearby restaurant placed close to our school.
His parents hadn't come to see the game. They hadn't for a long time. He was long used to it by now.
We walked into the shop. It was a particularly chilly night that night, so the embrace of the steam flying up from a nearby pot and slipping through through cracks of the door of which lead to the kitchen almost welcomed us into the shop.
We each took a seat and ordered some food. Akira orders plenty of food, I, on the other hand get my usual. Miso soup and rice. Quite plain, but I can seem to help it. It tastes good and it's reminiscent of my own existence - bare.
Whilst at the table I reflect on our past experiences, what has occurred bringing us - Akira - so far as to winning our school teams ticket to nationals.
We didn't only go to the same high school, we went to the same middle school, too. Recurring themes played out through our years at both of these schools. Firstly, we BOTH tried out for our school teams for BOTH of these schools. However only Akira had ever made both.
Once again, rightfully so. He'd worked insanely hard. I, on the other hand could only seem to chase and pursue my passion for soccer as a casual hobby. I've constantly flipped through different blames, fingers to point as to why on Earth I couldn't grasp at the curtains leading to the front stage, why I couldn't drive myself to become skilled and gifted like those around me, why was I so mundane? Was it because no one gave me that push to fuel my determination? Was it because I couldn't seem to pick up on one specific gift, thus leaving me constantly average in the face of geniuses?
One particular reason played through my head each and every second of every day. During both of those tryouts for our school teams, I was always nervous and chose to remain close to Akira. I'd progressively get worse during tryouts, making him look really, really good. That's what I'd told myself. Which was terrible. It made me a terrible person. He earned those spots for himself. I know this because day after day through harsh winters and summers Akira trained until he completely collapsed. I'd often visit his house to see him passed out in his own yard. I knew precisely why, too.
With us two being close friends we've often discussed our motives and goals and thoughts behind our actions. He's always told me that, mixed in with his mere enjoyment for soccer, he'd always felt like he had something to prove. Not just to his parents whoms conditions with each other and Akira himself were progressively worsening, but also to the people who'd constantly bullied the both of us in earlier years and still now. He needed to show everyone what he could do. But by that point, asking him to elaborate his thought process any further, even his own thought process behind his motives grew blank.
That feeling to prove something was not a flame brimming within myself. But I always wanted it. Something to make myself get up in the morning, to keep writing out my own story. And yet, no matter how hard I tried to have that, I kept quitting.
My life wasn't bad, though. Not as bad as Akiras. Aside from my self-bound imprisonment through lack of desire to do things, I was mostly just normal. A side character in other peoples lives, often addressed as Akiras side kick. Akira on the other hand, had a terrible living condition. His parents' relationship was in complete shambles. Not only this, they're horrible people. Often I hear stories of him telling me about how his parents constantly remind him of him being an accident before his father begins to beat Akiras mom once again. Akira shows up to school with bruises and cuts and scratches, and if they aren't from his father they're from people from our own school.
The world is cruel. Something he has been exposed to enough. And I only know of this being constantly exposed to his disposition. A third motivation of his, for trying so hard to be good at soccer - to get away from this town. From his parents, the horrible people at our school, everyone.
The cruelty and hatred of which was constantly bared down onto him widdled down his purity. He'd grown progressively more tired. In other words, he's become depressed. I think he knows that too. The numbness in his activities and words gives it away, I think he even confronted his parents about it at one point, asking to set himself up with a therapist. Only natural for themselves, they had declined his pleas.
Some part of me believes I might be too, but I deny it whenever I think of the possibility.
The food arrives after we talk for a bit, then a third person arrives - Yuna. She doesn't seem to like me very much, and to be quite frank I'd be lying if I didn't say I didn't sometimes feel some disdain towards her too. Yuna is Akiras girlfriend. She didn't come to the game because she was "busy", with no further elaboration on any of that she'd only arrived because Akira had asked her to.
After some silence of which is even more deafening than the noises after Akiras goal, the ice is finally shattered.
"So…Er, how are you..?" Akira asks, towards Yuna.
"Fine." She responds, she quickly takes out her phone and begins to text someone. I can't quite see who it is.
Akira and I give each other a glance.
"I ended up scoring a hat trick, that's pretty cool…" Akira desperately attempts to salvage the rest of her attention.
"Oh, that's good. Hey, I have to go, my parents need me for something, sorry." She excuses herself, pushing herself out of the table and beelining straight for the exit, gone even faster than her initial arrival.
I have an irritated expression on my face, looking towards Akira.
"What..?" He looks at me confused, but I think he understands my frusteration to its fullest.
"Dude, be for real. I've been warning you, she's only using you for popularity. With the way she's been acting, she's probably going to break up with you soon." I tell him, before bringing the warm bowl of miso soup up to my lips, sipping the rest of the soup out from it until the scarlet bowl is completely empty.
"No, that's not it. Don't worry, she gets like this at times, you just need to see her when she's happy."
I shoot him an "are you serious right now?" Look. His eyes trail off back towards the table with an awkward smile of which briefly dissipates.
His parents didn't wind up driving over to pick him up. It appeared unsurprising to him, and me as well. It's more unlikely for his own parents to show up than not. I end up walking with him back to his house.
We walk through the neighborhood, the streets are quiet with the time growing later by the minute. We finally arrive at his house, the lights inside are still dimly shining in the window.
Upon getting closer to the door, an unsettled expression runs across his face. The light on the top corner of the door frame highlights his eye bags , really bringing out his exhaustion. There's shouting. Lots of it. His father and mother seem to be arguing again, unsurprisingly. He seems nervous, progressively sort of trying to make himself braver, bracing himself to go into the house.
Upon a loud crash, his moment to brace himself is shortened greatly.
"Stay out here." He tiredly reaches for the doorknob, slowly twisting it.
"I can call someone…Get some help-"
"Go home, Souji."
He makes his way into the house. There is some more screaming and shouting, before some loud crashing noises even more chaotic in sound than the initial first one. I reluctantly walk back towards my own house.
The days progress into weeks. More relentless training. Akira keeps showing up to school more injured than before. The relentless bullying doesn't seem to cease, either.
One day, I'd entered the school yard to see Akira looking particularly saddened and stressed out. I'd rushed over to him, placing my hand upon his shoulder.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"My father had the soccer team cut me."
There was nothing I could say. That feeling had killed me. The best I could do was sit by his side and bare his pain through empathy. So I sat. It was quiet that day.
The weeks continued, following day after day with Akiras physical progression getting worse and worse.
One day, when we had both been hanging out at the mall we'd seen Yuna with another guy, she'd told him that she'd be out for separate business but clearly that had ended up being untrue. They'dbriefly ended up breaking up after that.
However, something fascinating had happened after that. After connecting his ties with her, the day after for the first time in months he had this glowing going about him. Like…happiness. Maybe he just had to release that tension holding on to him, that stress to finally allow himself to start living his life. His wounds and cuts grew, but his smile only grew bigger.
He laughed, made others laugh, told jokes. I went along with all of it and so did everyone else. The bags on his eyes grew increasingly weary with the passing day. For once, maybe, everything would be OK.
Later, at around 3 in the morning, I'd received a text from him.
Hearing the ping from my phone from a message, my body had twisted in bed, turning to face my phone. A bright light shone from it lighting up my room. I'd outstretched my hand to grab the phone, checking my notifications.
𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚
I love you, man, thanks for everything.
𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐢
Wtf are you talking about?
Hello?
Stop, this isn't funny.
Answer.
𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 4:12𝘢𝘮
I fumbled to get my phone and ran into my garage. Quickly, I began to bike towards his home, hearing my parents distant confused pleas asking me to come back home.
I was surprised, insanely off guard. With every cycle of the pedal my heart was pounding in my own ears, I accelerated, faster, faster, until my head clouded with thoughts threw off my body.
I lost track of my surroundings as my bike struck against a stray piece of rubble on the floor. I flew completely out of my bike, crashing into the cold floor.
My body skidded and rolled across the floor, I groaned. Akiras house was only a block down. I limped over, cracked phone in hand. I staggered to his fence before my legs grew wobbly.
I'd collapsed onto the floor, noticing a red streak running into my eye - my forehead was bleeding. Shivering in the cold, I began to crawl. Dragging my hand over, clutching onto the side walk. With one drag after the other I'd made it to his fence.
Flashbacks of the both of us hanging out would be spiking through my head. For some reason now, my body would begin to move. If not only through adrenaline and will but through guidance of something else, I'd managed to get myself over the wooden fence. His backyard was pretty small. I'd collapsed from the top of the fence onto the turf-fake grass like material flooring the yard.
I'd see a nearby baseball-sized rock, hurling it into the glass sliding door. The glass would crack heavily before I'd rammed my own body through the sliding door. By some kind of miracle, the amount of glass shards that stuck into my body was minimal.
His parents were nowhere to be found. The house was filled with a dreadful silence. There was no startled noise upon my arrival, there were no lights on. I found Akiras room through the cluttered, messy house.
I'd winced upon removing a piece of glass lodged into my shoulder. His door wasn't locked. The door would creak, it was as if the world stopped turning.
When I saw him, my heart had stopped pounding. Not just that. Everything just stopped. At the time it would be hard to explain anything.
His body dangled loosely, the tips of his feet pointed inches off of the ground. I rushed over, using the glass I'd pulled out of myself to sever the rope.
He descended onto the floor limply. I held his body closely to me.
There was no noise. I hadn't screamed.
I only hugged my friend closely as light would slowly creep through the glass of his window.
Dawn was rising, with blue clouds and a blue sky of which completely swallowed everything.
After that, I did completely nothing. Moreover, everything was nothing. Soccer was a thing of the past. It was as if the world really ended. I was bound to that day forever. All other days were replays of that one. I'd go to school, isolating myself from everyone else. My parents included.
My dreams were haunted by the image of him. Not only my dreams, but my everyday thoughts, too. All of it. I remained unable to let go, whether the day or night.
It turns out, the night that it had all occurred, the reason his parents weren't home was because his father wound up driving himself off a bridge into the ocean the same night during a fight with Akiras mom, who of which was in the car with him at the same time.
So I'd sat at my desk one night with an inexplicable sort of grief.
Shadows hung low under my eyes as I'd reached out for a drawer. Upon pulling it, a small envelope would be revealed. Drops of red would be scattered across it.
The night it had all happened, Akira had also written a note. I'd picked it up, but ended up passing out before I could be able to read any of it. Later, the neighbors had ended up calling the paramedics and the last thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed with one of the doctors bringing over the envelope to my desk. I had hid from it, buried it deep away with anything else I had to remember him by. However exhausted, and with nothing else to do or live for my hand trembled as it'd closed its distance towards the envelope.
Id raise it, bringing my hands up to the flap, opening it up.
𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐢! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐈'𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭…𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬. 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 - 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 - 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐌𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐎𝐊 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞!
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝,
𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚
My grip around the paper strengthens, crinkling the page. Instead of blood staining the note this time it'd be tears.
The drops of water would escape my eyes, falling down my cheek and onto the now flimsy sheet.
Being a mess as is already, I muster up the strength to now reach for the second item in the envelope Akira was addressing - the invitation.
Akira Akasuki-Sama
YOU'VE BEEN SELECTED FOR A SPECIAL PLAYER TRAINING PROGRAM.
We are pleased to announce that after a rigorous selection process, you have been selected as a JFU designated player for a training program. Therefore, we would like to invite you to the new training project meeting to be held
on the XXth of XX.
If you wish to attend, please sign the enclosed consent form and come to the JFU Headquarters building at the designated date and time.
JFU New Project Representative,
Jinpachi Ego
I'd asked my parents to bring me over to the location of the invitation, to which they accepted surprisingly quickly.
I'd slowly opened the door of the facility. For the first time in a long time my eyes widened with a sort of surprise on them. Hundreds of high schoolers cramped up in one singular area. I was intrigued to say the least, and if the invitation served me correctly these guys, every single one of them are strikers. Akira was a striker for our team. I remembered that I was here in his place, as in quite literally AS Akira himself. Before long, a man with a black tuxedo made his way to the top of the stage. He delivered a speech.
It was most likely very provocative, as there was some push back. The only thing left in my ears was static, picking up lightly on words ever so often drifting out of his mouth. This was the first time i'd left my house for anything aside from school in a long time. Was it even me here right now? Or was the real me still stuck in that dysfunctional house? Was whoever here just a husk of someone, puppeteered by strings soon to give out in any of the passing moments?
Something about "egoism" or something like that. What was he trying to say? Be selfish? I hadn't particularly picked up on the full thing before everyone's thoughts were interrupted by a rather abrupt motion. A shorter black hair boy had sprinted behind him and into the door. It wouldn't be long before I was surrounded in complete pandemonium, the people around me would be sprinting past me and into the doorbehind the strange man, as well. As for me? I merely stood there. Quietly. Letting the chance pass me by. The footsteps and shouting resounded hollowly in my body. I stared blankly, before my sulking was quickly disrupted.
A stray player had knocked into me, sending me off balance and onto the floor. Without any reaction, my face would be lightly scuffed upon impact against the cement floor as i'd tiredly bring my hand out to feel for the Earth, pushing myself up.
Everyone had left until it was me, a white haired boy and a purple haired boy.
Their friendship held an uncanny similarity, one of which I quickly snuffed out, forgetting about it. I drowned their conversation out with memories like I had anything else. Eventually they too ran out the door, to wherever it lead.
It was now only me and this absolute madman. He'd glance towards me.
"Tch…Any reason why you're still here? Was my speech not enticing enough for YOU either?"
I stay quiet towards him, before shooting him a piercing glare and sneer.
"I think…It's complete bull. All this talk for fighting for yourself…I'm only here for someone else, after all."
For a moment, the two of us engage in a sort of stare down, he faces me atop the high stage.
"Some half-baked mentality like that will get you nowhere here…People who do things solely for "others" only do so because they don't know what to strive for for themselves. If you can't find that, lock off."
Im about to abide his wishes, turning to face the exit when my body is halted by a strange sensation again, those threads puppeteering the my body. However, they'd began to wilt, before completely dispersing. I remembered Akiras only wish for me. Without another word, or looking at him, I sprint into the door leading to the facility.
"Having a change of heart…Are you? Find yourself, egoist."
I find myself walking through a hallway lined with metallic walls, until finding the white haired boy and purple haired boy there, too. The purple haired one shoots me a look.
"Ah, you're team V, too?"